In The Beginning, There Was A Paradox
by Canes of Venatici
Summary: To create a Horcrux had only been Tom Riddle's second option.
1. Confluence, Part 1

**Chapter 1: Confluence (Part 1)**

On the eve of November 1st, where Dimwood manor is best bustling, a witch was about to be born. To say the house was on hysterics is an understatement.

"NGHGGGGGNFF!"

"Keep pushing! Or you'll die!" Nurse Stalley(with the license and experience), was ever the humorous family nurse. Albeit the sharp tongue, she delivered her job with loyalty and gusto quite nicely.

"Oh dear, I never want to go through this again!" mumbles Mr. Edson Dimwood from the corner of the bed, huddled and cowering, while his wife in labor holds his hand in a vice grip. Whether Mr. Edson wants to exit the room out of horror, or stay faithful to his matrimonial vows: till death do us apart, what's certain is that the Dimwood triplets have better spines than their father.

Eddy Dimwood, Malton Dimwood and John Dimwood, strapping boys and turning six within the month, are doe-eyed and unable to comprehend the situation.

"Daddy why are you weeping?"

"Can we get some candy now?"

"What's nanny doing with that head on your bottom, mum?"

"GET OUT CHILDREN!" bellows Nurse Stalley, also part-time nanny of the Dimwood triplets. She had quite the story as a bankrupted widow. Her husband left her the hefty fortune. However, he had intentionally spelled Stalley Hedrickson to 'Sparty Hedingson' on his last will. Gringgots was firm, there was no Stalley Hedrickson mentioned, and thus no fortune. Mr. Hedrickson did not do it out of jest, of course, Nurse Stalley always defended. Just an April fool's joke gone awry when he'd died. Is all.

The triplets scurry out fashionably, as Mr. Domingo, the family butler slash gardener slash the occasional chaperone, rushes just in time to escort the boys out, "This way children."

"Is it out?! Is it?!" says a high-pitched Mr. Edson with a bit more decorum this time.

"BLOODY HELL, IT IS NOT!"

Maria Dimwood grunts one last feral growl as their new healthy baby arrives to the wizarding world. Insured, naturally covered in blood and in a bloody screaming fit but safe and very sound.

Mr. Edson carries the newborn baby in an affectionate embrace in a second, finally having been released from his wife's stony grip and former cowardliness forgotten.

"Maria, darling! She is beautiful. Beautiful than you I'm afraid! What shall we name our first lady witch, hmm?"

Nurse Stalley interjects, "Let me clean her first!"

Edson pointedly turns the child away from Nurse Stalley as Maria edges for them, "Give me the baby." She wheezes out, pained and tremendously tired.

Edson assents and lowers the child quickly into Maria's bosom must she faint not having held their newborn witch. That would be a waste indeed.

"She gave the house quite the chaos."

"I agree." Nurse Stalley and Mr. Edson nodded briefly, heads bobbing animatedly.

Maria's lips quirked, "Then we shall name her after this Greek goddess muggles all write about in their mythology books."

Edson plops on the sheets beside her, mesmerized by the duo and his legs were starting to ache too, "The goddess of chaos then. But alas! I don't remember her name!"

"Neither do I!" Maria exclaims in mock horror.

Nurse Stalley huffs impatiently, she was never one for theatrics as the Dimwood couple was. And the mother and daughter were still absolutely filthy COULD THEY NOT STALL?

"Will you just name the bloody baby already? Because, frankly, it is still covered in blo-"

"Oh yes, I remember now!" Mr. Edson exclaims, oblivious to their nurse's little outburst.

"Eris. Our little witch."

Both couple were beaming as the children scurried back inside together with Mr. Domingo. The triplets and their father cluster around little Eris as Mr. Domingo attends to the nights's preparations and Nurse Stalley to Mrs. Dimwood.

"Dad, what kind of boy is it?"

"It is a she and is called a girl, Malton." Mr. Edson supplies brightly as he steers the curious pairs of eyes away from the bedroom with promises of treats and a bit of frightening.

"Will Maria be able to attend the festivities, Madam Stalley?" He calls out from the door.

Nurse Stalley's lips are set into a thin line and before she could answer Maria coughs purposely.

"Of course I will! Now get out and attend to the boys!"

Mr. Edson leaves with a wink as the doors shut firmly after him.

"St. Mungo's would have been ten times the appropriate place for child labor, Maria." Nurse Stalley starts as she begins changing the sheets.

"Oh shush, I have a talented nurse with me."

Stalley tuts before gathering the blood-sodden sheets, "Well get resting then you bloody stubborn woman."

Maria Dimwood laughs. It brought a bit of ache on her lower belly, but nothing too serious.

They had an exaggerated feast, with pumpkin juice, treats shaped into faces and cuisines designed to look macabre, and of course, an abundance of sweets for the whole household, which mysteriously disappeared overnight as the triplets went to bed. Edson ate what could only be half of the table while Mr. Domingo and Nanny Stalley both helped themselves on the other side and Maria sipped on her pumpkin juice. It was Halloween — a pretty one too, for the moon was as bright as the ambience inside Dimwood manor.

Later into the night, when all was well: with the triplets tucked into bed, Mr. Domingo rested, nurse-nanny Stalley is finally retired(for the night) and Mr. Edson hogging all the sheets, Maria Dimwood tiptoes towards little Eris' crib.

She did one last peek on the sleeping baby before going back to bed.

She slept still as a stone.

On December 31st, roughly two months later, at Little Hangleton, a wizard was born.

Merope Gaunt, abandoned by her pureblood family and then left by her muggle, daresay if only for a while, lover, lies on her deathbed. A flimsy, little bed for a woman who just gave birth and was stripped of rights, family and love.

Tom Riddle Jr. lays in his mother's arms, oddly silent for a newborn baby.

"My little angel between a wizard and a muggle," Merope starts, tracing Tom junior's tiny nose, lips, ears to his hands and little feet. "On the middle of two converging races. I hope you forgive your mother for such a, such a—"

The tears come this time, yet as salty and large as they were, they were not from bitterness or pain from childbirth or from cowardice and hopelessness of having drugged Tom Riddle with a love potion. It was rather because of the notion of this little baby growing up to be homeless, devoid of care and family, and hating her ultimately.

She could not die. Not yet.

She apparated, despite the Ministry's strict rule against magic outside the wizarding world, to the nearest Muggle orphanage. The minister might not mind some rule-breaking, Merope thought. Trial her, sentence her and even humiliate her in front of her family but the worst they could do is to prevent her from giving her baby, at least, a future it deserves.

The orphanage is barred with high iron fences and it looked like it could do some fixing. Yet Merope Gaunt is determined. After all, beggars can't be choosers. She places her baby beneath the looming railing, she had only apparated her and her baby outside the orphanage and this, Merope calculated, will be the last bit of magic she might be able to pull off tonight.

Merope bends over little Tom, sniffing, reminiscing, if she could ever smell his father on him.

She laughs, voice tinkling, "Why! You smell even better than your father and grandparents combined! And they were such the snobby aristocrats!"

The voices beneath lit houses were a haze and the snow was making little Tom's nose go a cherry red. Yet he still did not utter a single cry that night.

With one last effort Merope Gaunt opens the gate and strides towards the orphanage door.

With one last look, she puts little Tom down.

With one last moment she hope would make up for all the mistakes she had made, she knocks on the door. Two times. Three. Four. Five. Until a throaty, "Coming!" resonated from inside.

There was a crack and that was the last of Merope Gaunt.

A few years later into Tom Riddle Jr.'s childhood, he had became quite the accomplished antisocial. He was also very taciturn. He did not play with the other orphan children. This, Mrs. Cole did notice, and it worried her greatly. For reasons of being afraid for his well-being and for being spooked by Tom's apathetic behavior.

He meets auburn bearded Albus Dumbledore in 1938, where the man reveals to him his parentage: his deceased mother, Merope Gaunt and his father, Tom Marvolo Riddle and of course, his affinity for magic.

Tom was already the curious child and had known he had a weird ability even before Albus Dumbledore had told him about his magical lineage. He confided this to the man, along with the lines, "I can make bad things happen to those who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want to."

These were the wrong things to say, however, older Tom would have realized. For that moment, Albus Dumbledore knew it best to develop distrust and fear that would last even till Tom's education at Hogwarts ended. He knew he was going to be dangerous.

Nevertheless, Tom was to start his first year at Hogwarts. His education funded by the school, provided he maintained high marks. Tom was surefire he would live up to his professors' academic expectations.

However, as the day descended into the night and Tom was still unable to sleep, he decided to let his thoughts wander. Of his mother, probably muggle, he had assumed, dying, of dying, of blood, of pain and of dying again.

He had never been more afraid in his entire life.

Meanwhile at the Dimwood manor, Mr. Edson was to remarry a Pureblood aristocrat from the Greengrass family. She had the exquisite Greengrass mien: long, ebony locks, striking green eyes and the high cheekbones that could cut through diamond.

The Dimwood triplets were not children anymore but rather budding adolescents blessed with the family's pretty golden manes and deep grey eyes. They were currently on their last year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, specifically stressing over the incoming N.E.W.T.s.

It is in this time of the year, Eris also receives her acceptance letter from Hogwarts.

Nurse Stalley also begins working at St. Mungo's when this happened, since the children were of age and there was no need to babysit them anymore. Even little Eris.

Over the years, Eris Dimwood grows finer in beauty and so does her taste for anything 'blunt', e.g. choice of words, empathy, hairstyle and magical prowess. The last one was the most troubling of all because Eris's display of magic had always been from none to meager. What the only girl in the family was terribly obsessed at was using the kitchen's cauldrons and mixing ingredients from hair to dead lizards or leaves to create something of semblance of a proper potion.

But of course, her experiments were still improper and thus garnered hazardous results most of the time, e.g. blowing up the kitchen, foul smell throughout the house, wreckage of tools, decimation of her father's sanity and the like. The triplets did not mind the discord but are rather amused by their sister's efforts at a subject they always fail at school.

Mr. Edson however was a different story. It had left him paranoid and running the minute the sound of bubbling and clanging of cauldrons echoed and he'd arrived at her room only to discover no trace of ruination whatsoever and just Eris sleeping.

The very next day Mr. Edson furnished a room for all potion making in the house, brought Eris a textbook entitled "A VERY Beginner's Guide To Potion Making", ordered ingredients listed in the book, sternly ordered Eris to wear protective gear every time she went inside this room, insured that part of the house and finally retires to his room for a very long, relaxing slumber he'd been itching for in months.

This coaxed the manor for a bit until the news of his father remarrying.

The triplets were complying to their father's decision, only secretly bummed out.

Eris was a wee more stubborn and handful.

"No." She had simply said on the day of the announcement and walked out.

"Your hair looks that of an old, mangled woman vying for youth." She had said one occasion at dinner.

"Your eyes look like moss." On another occasion.

The last string her father could take was on the morning before her departure to Hogwarts with her brothers, "You will never feel welcome in this family. That tidbit should be common for the second woman."

Her father had slapped her there, at platform four and three-quarters. A few onlookers were horrified, her brothers more so, and surprisingly even Mary Greengrass, albeit hurt and crying from Eris's words. It had stung for both women.

Mary tugs on Edson's sleeve, "Ed, you shouldn't have done that! I'm sorry Eris—"

Eris, however, had already left.

Eddy, Malton and John give their quick good byes and apologies to Mary in behalf of their sister and then left.

The Dimwood couple were forlorn figures among the bustling mass of people. Finally Mr. Edson Dimwood turned and said, "Let's go, Mary."


	2. Confluence, Part 2

**Chapter 2: Confluence (Part 2)**

The ride was silent; chatters from other compartments barely audible as the loud, constant rumbling of the train echoed throughout, overpowering all other noises. However, it did not do well to hide the conspicuous whispers between Eris' brothers.

"Your eyes will roll out of your sockets if you continue staring at me." She said without taking her eyes off the scenery before her. Greens and browns and blues, why did they look mundane?

She felt a soft nudge on her arm and immediately knew it was Eddy. Eddy the oldest; Eddy the overprotective; Eddy the goody two-shoes; Eddy the stern. Eddy couldn't just leave his siblings or anyone for that matter be.

"Eris," She knows this tone from Eddy all too well. "Look at me."

Hands turn her around gently as if she was some porcelain, breakable and with extra care needed.

"I don't regret what I said." She said casually, but her stubbornness absolutely dripping.

The trio each wore solemn faces. How unlike them, Eris thought. For her days at the manor, she had only seen them with smiles plastered on their faces, she could only deduce they must be permanent.

"We know."

"We hate that bitch too."

"We absolutely do."

Now, the trio were back to normal. Almost as if gloom had never come their way. Even Eddy, always the placating one, had joined in.

Eris stared at them, "You're all bipolar freaks—"

Laughter resonated from her brothers. Malton almost had tears in his eyes, John was doubling over the floor and Eddy was cupping a hand over his mouth. Eris could only look at them blandly with a mix of incredulousness.

"—and exaggerating masochists." She added with an afterthought.

Soon, her brothers were narrating stories about Hogwarts. Of ghosts, secret passages, magical creatures, teachers and girls.

Girls and balls.

Magic and girls.

Even the talk of classes included girls in them.

Eris was ready to turn her back again and indulge in the silence and the lack of stupidity the window had to offer, when wary glances pass from brother to brother.

Malton starts, "Now, we know you.. You are.." and looked to his brothers for words.

"Uninterested in affairs like these!" Eddy supplied.

Eris was starting to lose interest, eyes pointedly glued to anything but their faces, "What affairs?"

The boys are in a panic. Malton looking at Eddy and Eddy glaring at John who was busying himself on counting the trees they pass by. Merlin knows how he counted the trees when the train was moving at a pace people wouldn't be able to count trees.

Of course they were stalling. Who would want to breach an awkward topic(but to Eris it wasn't anything awkward, more like dull and stupid) on anything about _the talk_ to a little sister? Not to mention they wouldn't be able to look after her in the crucial years when the.. hormones start kicking.

"AVOID BOYS!" The trio said simultaneously. In the light of their outburst, they nodded proudly. 'This is the only way' their faces said to one another.

Eris was already looking back at the window. "Very well, I'll start with the three of you."

The trio slumped against their seats and the ride passes in silence once again.

On the other end of the train, where a single boy occupied the compartment, there was silence and Tom Riddle was pensive.

The sun had gone out to be replaced with the inky night. Stars then, were starting to appear slowly on the horizon: One, in twos, then in numbers the naked eye wouldn't be able to count. The moon was full and surrounded by the stars. Yet, it still engulfed all the waters and lands below with its light. A lone moon against a multitude of stars.

Riddle knows he is destined for great things. He refused to think he is not. To be a star is average, to be the moon is one thing, and Hogwarts will offer that opportunity to him.

Riddle knows a lot of things. But he did not know, he couldn't _comprehend_, how his mother had been so weak so as to die with childbirth when she had magic.

He did not know how how a family worked. What was a family? Did it meant leaving your own flesh and blood to a stranger? Did it entail his father, the proud Tom Riddle, not seeing his son, _Tom Riddle_?

Disgust and anger were the only emotions he associated with the senior. He was even named after that man — how bloody pathetic, stupid and desperate could his mother be?

Tom could only see red.

Tom. Tom. Tom. Tom. Tom.

He despised that name with all the blood boiling in his veins. The only thing good out of his parents was the magic he had inherited from them.

If his magic hadn't lashed out the day he was being harassed in the courtyard with other orphans, he would have killed himself.

Such a pitying existence should not live.

Yet he had retaliated; he had hurt those who had hurt him. And he_ thrived_ on it. Tom Riddle was reborn and magic became his only guardian. The day he would see the Gaunts and Riddles would be the day he would kill them.

He would kill them and he wouldn't feel the tiniest bit of remorse, or mercy.

He would kill them and he would live through it.

He would kill them and he would be satisfied.

Suddenly, Dumbledore's wary face flash through the red.

Yes, he shouldn't be overpowered with his bloodlust. Even within his self, Tom Riddle was fighting a war.

Tom figured he must win the trust of that man, for he knew he would and likely pose as a threat sooner or later. He had seen it in his eyes, the way they had twinkled, giving the convincing facade of just some harmless magic wielder. A feebleness in his stature. The softness in his face.

If Tom wasn't a manipulator in the first place, he wouldn't know he was looking into the eyes of someone dangerous.

Dumbledore was quite the conniving man.

However, it was too late. The moment he had seen his eyes after that, Merlin forbid, _immature_ outburst about using magic to hurt other children was lamentable. It was downright_ regrettable_. For one, he knew he wouldn't be able to earn Albus Dumbledore's trust. Not on any day, not once, not ever. Now Tom would be under scrutiny from the him. This was a bad case in itself. Sooner or later, he would have to eliminate those who oppose him. That would, at least, require the effort and planning, and would meant complicating already complicated things up.

The train whistled, a loud, obnoxious sound that piqued the interest of every passenger onboard. Hogwarts was near, and Tom Riddle had never felt so riveted.

Eliminating Dumbledore was not a choice yet. Perhaps he should start by being charismatic and winning the trust of the school?

"Moves in the right time, Riddle. Moves in the right time."

The moonlight was a ghostly presence, and the light from the lanterns was the only force combating against the dark. Though it did not calm overexcited and anxious youngsters.

"Move!" The first year caretaker shrieked. For caretakers, first years are always a handful. With their imploring faces, feet that wouldn't still and eyes that would burst into fireworks any moment.

Eris donned the cloak and uniform the school had required them to wear for the sorting later on. Her brothers bid her good bye as they begin to separate; first years were to ride a boat across the river while the higher years were to ride carriages. Her brothers had told her it was a school tradition.

"A tradition but actually more of an initiation." Malton looked at her, pulling a face that was supposed to look ghastly.

John subdued his voice, playing the part where whispers meant impending doom. "We'll tell you this, they'll try to make you as baits for the giant squid lurking beneath the dark waters of the lake."

Malton, being the intelligent one among the three, decided to spare himself from the humiliation by keeping his mouth shut. This was the best move under the circumstances, seeing Eris' face couldn't be more possibly blank.

"Let's get going, you half-brains." He said, giving his two brothers a good slap to the head each.

As they were about to begin walking towards the opposite side, Eddy, against his better judgment, turned around and said, "They weren't joking you know."

Silence pass between the siblings.

Finally, Malton and John patted Eddy on each side of his back.

"You now obtain the privilege to be ostracized by our little sister." Malton nodded as if he couldn't be more proud.

By the time Eddy could feel regret, Eris was already out of earshot and with the other first years.

"Welcome to the brotherhood." John added solemnly as they continued their walk towards the carriages.

The caretaker inferred that the trip through the lake would be the best time to repress the energetic students by the good, old giant squid and bait story. Soon, first years were huddled against one another and clinging to friends as the boats ventured. Other than that, they were quiet and behaved throughout the duration of the ride.

Tom Riddle resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the absolute amateurishness before him. To think they would be in the school for seven years with him was enough to make his head throb.

Maybe he should also start being patient with dimwits.

Eris, on the other hand, was oblivious. She couldn't care less of other people's business.

Hogwarts began to loom on the horizon. A majestic, medieval aged castle which covered a large area of the highlands. Squinting, you could barely see the light shining out from tiny windows situated around the castle. The first years are in awe, giggling excitedly and nattering between one another.

Upon closely reaching the school, Riddle could feel the reverberations of ancient magic. Sharpening his concentration and paying more attention to the signs of magic around him, a bluish-white sheen begin to form around the school before his eyes.

_A protective barrier, the castle must be magic itself_. Riddle thought. _How very curious._

How fascinating magic was turning out to be.

After reaching land and a quick attendance to make sure the first years are all present, the students are then shuffled beyond large, double oak doors that lead inside the great hall.

The magic inside Hogwarts was exemplary. It was as if it had a life of its own. Bewitched ceilings held floating candles and the illusion of the sky at night. What made it commendable to Eris' eyes was the feel: the richness of its detail and similarity to its real counterpart. More so on the resemblance to the surface of a brewing Wolfsbane potion; a myriad of blues clashing and swirling, it was definitely enticing.

A great number of people were already inside, with her brothers seated near the front. Playing it safe, she positioned herself on the other side of the throng, the place farthest from her brothers.

A few students near the trio laugh.

"Blimey, your sister hates you lot!" One cackled.

"Shut up." Malton said, kicking him below the table.

Eddy raises a hand to silence the teens. "Shut up, the sorting's about to start."

"Does anyone in the table know a phrase other than shut up?" Eddy and Malton pinched John, garnering a loud grunt from the victim. Nevertheless, Eris was still drifting farther and farther away from their sight. Was it on purpose or due to circumstance, the trio, of course knew.

"Start acting gallantly, you fools." Eddy whispered.

John and Malton reflexively straighten their backs and attentively turned their heads to the headmaster, Mr. Dippet, giving his welcome speech. But of course, they were looking rather than listening.

Although the trio were placed in Gryffindor by the sorting hat with no second's hesitation - their father also a Gryffindor and their late mother a Ravenclaw, the triplets couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding.

Malton coughed, skin pale and slightly sweating. "Why do I feel like hell is about to break lose?"

"Eris Dimwood!" Dippet's voice echoed and the trio jolted. Surprise turning to anxiety, they weren't expecting Eris to be called first. However, the problem gnawing on their minds most was not the question of what house Eris would be sorted to, but rather the house Eris was going to be sorted to. And they actually had a very fine guess.

Eris stepped forward, finding the situation of being called first most profiting because it would mean less standing and more sitting.

Gingerly sitting on the stool, a worn-out hat is carefully perched on her head. Eris could immediately feel that the hat was alive.

And it could talk.

_Hello there, this won't take be long._ The hat's voice echoed, or was it a thought procured by her mind, she didn't know.

_Ambitious! I see you are thirsty?_

Eris thought it wouldn't be dangerous to talk to the hat. _Yes, I am. Where can I drink some juice?_

The hat snorted amusingly before speaking,_ Oh don't worry, there will be a great feast after this! However, I must warn you child. The one responsible for your downfall will only be yourself._

_A sorting hat has premonitions?_

_Clever girl_, the hat almost whispered._ Stay clear of the prince of Slytherin for your death will be in his hands. _

"SLYTHERIN!" The hat screamed. The headmaster took the hat off her head as cheers erupted from the Slytherin table. The triplets, on the other hand, looked like they would faint any moment.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, Miss Dimwood." Dippet smiled as he helped her down the stool.

Eris nodded and walked towards the farthest table to the right, where green colored and a silver snake adorned the insignia. Giving one glance behind, the hat winked at her mischievously.

_What a silly hat_, Eris thought facing the table once again.

Riddle regarded the four tables. He had heard, from chitchats on the boat, each house represented a specific character, and students were sorted based on their personality streaks. He couldn't help but think how terribly organized the school's student system is. Though, Tom does agree that the arrangement was suiting to ensure unity between students, at the same time ensuring rivalry with other houses to raise the competitive spirit in each person.

The sorting ceremony had already commenced. However, In lieu of the moment at hand, Tom Riddle is more fixated on the table where the professors and heads where sitting.

Dumbledore caught his gaze and gave him a smile. All too warm and casual, but eyes far too lifeless.

"Tom Riddle!"

Tom stepped forward earnestly. His senses were on fire, magic buzzing.

As he sat on the stool at the front spanning all the school's students before him, he knew immediately in this moment that he wanted to be supreme.

Beyond anything else, above anyone else.

_Tom Riddle_. An omnious voice echoed in his mind. His name an answer or a question or just a phrase bearing everything the hat has to know and knows about him. A name that utters little but echoes further.

_I know my place, hat._ Riddle answered simply.

_Of course, you will be one of the greatest wizards in history._

Riddle smirked at this.

_However, I warn you. Beware of blondes._

Before Riddle could ask the hat about the puzzling caution it had given, it had shouted: "SLYTHERIN!"

Headmaster Dippet mechanically lifted the hat off him, muttering a well-versed welcoming greeting before calling out to the next student.

Walking towards the table with the loudest cheer, Tom thought his charismatic endeavors should best start now. Sitting casually, he gives a disarming smile to fellow students, and the effect is instantaneous.

Within minutes Tom Riddle had already garnered the admiration of females, stirred some jealousy in men, but most of all, he had learned the simplicity of earning each individual's favor. Though he wasn't the conversationalist back at the orphanage, he found it easy for words to flow out of his mouth.

He resisted snorting. People only become lenient when they hear what they want to hear.

The duration of the night passes without accident.

Although, not the same can be said for the years to follow.

**A/N: ****Hello, please feel free to point out errors. Reviews are also appreciated!**


	3. Incognito

**Chapter 3: Incognito**

For the duration of three school years and a few months into the fourth term, somewhere mid-November - Tom Riddle and Eris Dimwood were still good as strangers.

They had only passed each other once, briefly bumping in the middle of a corridor. She had been busy thinking how Amortentia could possibly be the strongest potion in the world, and he, the whereabouts of the Chamber of Secrets. A large book(on potions sneaked from the restricted section of the library) she had clutched loosely to her bosom fell.

Tom had impassively stooped down to obtain the object, an offhanded reflexiveness of playing polite. Eris had given just as an absent-minded nod and their moment passes as swiftly as that.

An insignificant happenstance not even bound to be reminisced as a fragment of a memory. Because truly: no one remembers a stranger's face in a simple pass and go.

X

It was one cold November morning in Potions that Horace Slughorn found amusement in seeing his students in disarray. Red noses hunched over desks with vexatious faces and the air dripping with blatant impatience. It was on these circumstances - the boredom and indifference to learning _his_ subject, he knew best how to enthuse his students.

"Now, as you all know it has been awhile since our last project.."

As if on cue, the chorus of groans echo, students not even bothering to mask their derision. Horace lifts his palms up to demand order in the room. Surely, his students could show more refinery than that?

He clears his throat, eyes darting sternly, almost disapprovingly, around the room. "In preparation for your OWLs next year, you are to brew an advanced potion of your choice. In pairs." He adds the last bit to cajole the room.

"Well then," he starts, picking up the class list. "The pairs will be chosen at random."

It was a Potions class with Slytherins and Gryffindors, and since these houses acted like a pair of bickering old couples, he thought it was best to pair students exclusively with their housemates. Simply to avoid commotion, as this was a very trivial thing. Or maybe not.

He pairs, one by one, unsuspecting Gryffindors with unsuspecting Slytherins. He knew he was probably stirring more trouble than cause, but this rivalry was beginning to agitate him.

Tom Riddle thought so too, and with great inward distaste he placidly scrutinized his fellow peers.

The heavy thunks of bags harshly placed on tabletops resonated as pairs begin to sit with one another. A flair of childish defiance their Potions Master tolerated, or better yet, Riddle had noticed suspiciously, encouraged with veiled glee.

Slughorn must be quite the sadist, Riddle thought as he too picked up his belongings and proceeded to his partner. A miss…? Dimwood, was it? Oh yes, an Eris Dimwood. Surveying the classroom for his supposed partner, his eyes land on a solitary blonde-haired girl towards the back. She wore the insignia of the Slytherin house. Tom wondered briefly why he wasn't paired with a Gryffindor and his eyes found Slughorn just as Slughorn found his, as if the Potions Master had initially sensed his concern.

Not that it was of great importance to him.

Eris Dimwood was having her usual day. Ignorant to the woes of reality and attention directed elsewhere but the present. What was Slughorn on about again? A project? Pairs?

"Excuse me, miss… Dimwood?" A smooth voice taps her back to existence, and she craned her neck to look for this new source of intervention.

Eris passively glances at the boy hunched over her side to meet her gaze. She was momentarily silent, unsure of who this person was again. Oh, her partner. "Tom Riddle?" She blurts out in an indecisive greeting.

Tom manages a smile as an affirmation and wordlessly, Eris skids to the other side of the bench, making room for him to sit down and set his parchments on the table. She regards him openly, an unconscious action on her part. It was one of those days where her head's off to space.

Tom notices this from the corner of his eyes but pays no heed to this intrusion.

"Pardon for the delay," He begins, "Now, regarding the project -"

"Can you brew a Draught of Living Dead?"

A Pause. A glint in his eyes. Amusement? Disbelief? Yet she tucked it all in the back of her mind. It was something she wasn't particularly good at: subtle interactions and second meanings. Probably the reason she never liked Eddy's poetry books.

Besides, the only reason she had chosen this particular potion was because a male student was annoying her as of late. Spluttering gibberish about liking her and telling her she has an 'unusually innocent, doll-like face, mysterious, stormy eyes and a breathtaking cascade of golden locks that shine like a pale sun'. Eris knew better, this man was going to ship her organs off to the black market.

Riddle looks at her with a serene smile, breaking her free from her thoughts once again. She was getting too absent-minded.

"I can. Can you?" Leaning on one arm he also adds, "Isn't that a bit ambitious? It's a NEWT level potion after all. "

Eris replies back in a heartbeat: "I wouldn't be asking you if I wasn't capable enough."

A ghost of a smirk graced Riddle's lips. "Very well. It's an excellent choice, a daring one too. Shall we discuss more about it in the library? And we'd have access to books for reference too."

Eris mulls it over, "I'm free tomorrow."

"It's a date then." He affirms nonchalantly.

A few heads from exasperated females nearby turned sharply towards their desk with shocked faces. For nearby ignored males, one - a stumped Silvius Malfoy, it was easy to deduce the stages of thinking going through these vixens devoted to Riddle.

He had noticed a few girls had already been sneaking hopeful glances at Riddle ever since the word 'project' and 'pair' was uttered by Slughorn. It was no surprise that he was the object of adoration of most females. He was terribly perfect: annoyingly handsome, insanely intellectual and mannered. And a prefect to boot. Silvius takes these facts on bitterly. _Though_, he scratches his itching cheek, _there was this rumor.. Hmm, but unlikely. _he brandishes the thought away in one last satisfying scratch that made his partner look at him in disgust.

On the other side of the room, Victoria Greengrass watches the subject of commotion calmly. Well-mannered women do not indulge in insipid prattle, her mother had always reminded her. However, for her, this was another case. This was Tom Riddle.

Still she watches on calmly. Inwardly masking the simmering jealousy creeping through. Why was she even jealous? Merlin, this was only a silly project and besides Tom had his eyes on _her_. Wasn't it common knowledge that among the females in their school, it was _her_ Tom mostly displayed his open attention? Those rueful smiles and side glances. The way his eyes linger on her lips when they spoke, as if teasing her. The -

Victoria straightens up in her seat. Her mother had also taught her to never, ever fall victim to a man's words, lest actions. No matter how dazzling and courteous they may seem. Not even if it was from Tom Riddle. _Always. Always look beyond what you see,_ her mother had told her. Emphasizing the repeated 'always', because one warning isn't enough to fully remind the human self what is logical and to not fall prey to temptation. Then ruin.

Besides, what right did she have to think Tom was hers? _Absurd_, her inner voice hotly reprimands her as her fingers flipped mercilessly the worn pages of her Potions book. Her eyes glazed over titles and ingredients, anything for this project. Anything to _distract_ her. Her emotions got the best of her, her focus stubbornly shifting back to the subject of its want, leaving her no reprise. However, this time they were fixed on Tom Riddle's partner.

Her blood burned. Eris Dimwood. Now she - that girl is an _absolute twat_. No matter if she's Tom Riddle's partner. This girl was the reason her sister always came home in distress. Mary's smile agonizingly staged, eyes red and her fiance by her side, a very solemn Edson Dimwood. She had almost hated him if it weren't for the shame she'd see every time they would lock eyes. He looked so apologetic, eyes glassy and mouth in a grimace.

Eris Dimwood was a vile person, any person she conversed with who met her once attested to that.

"_She has no friends. No refinery."_ The Black sisters had whispered at one afternoon when they were having tea with their chinas.

_"She's the same age as us. Her father might even send her to Hogwarts_

_"Yes, Hogwarts."_ Lips pursed into sly smiles; their twinkling eyes bore into Victoria's. Malicious. Taunting.

_"We will break her."_

Victoria flipped through the pages more roughly, teeth gritted and eyes narrowed to slits, much to a befuddled Gryffindor to her side. Then her eyes found Eris again, to her porcelain skin and dark eyes. Those greys had never shined. Eris Dimwood was already the epitome of a bottomless pit.

Hollow and empty.

Victoria Greengrass looks back at her book and never steals a second glance again.

Eris stands up picking up her things, with the intent of leaving the room. The females took this as victory, hostility turning into smugness and some, even pity. Although if you'd known our main heroine by now you would have certainly learned this girl is _incredibly slow_..

..and a bit shallow-minded.

And slow and shallow indeed was Eris Dimwood, having been oblivious the whole time the classroom was in chaos. Truly, could one be so ignorant of obvious things? Obvious things that could be counted as being waved exasperatedly in front of her. Yet through this ordeal, it seemed Eris Dimwood had been looking through glassy, fish eyes. Well, ignorance does sometimes count as bliss..

On the other side of the spectrum, Tom Riddle was genuinely surprised. It was expected though, first she had asked him to brew the Draught of Living Dead, next she had abruptly stood up picking her things having not said a word about leaving and left not even sparing him a glance. How haphazard could this girl's actions get?

What _lowly_ state of affairs, Tom Riddle thought, gathering his things. Nuisances were best ignored as distractions. A man of his caliber had better things to do.

Like the Knights of Walpugris coming to existence tonight.

He rises up from his seat in a fluid motion. Graceful, dexterous. Immediately, all eyes were on him. Like moths drawn to a flame. Except this flame was a crackling ball of electricity.

Silvius Malfoy could only stare in awe. How could this man be so _Regal_? To stride with so much purpose and enigma? To entice the masses, even some of those who hated him, without trying?

Tom Riddle, truly is, a prodigy.

Like a ripple in the water with Tom Riddle at the center, the class slowly disperses. Some boys from Slytherin taking the lead, and the girls none too subtly, following. Soon only Horace Slughorn was left in the deserted room.

After a few moments, he too then took his leave. A knowing, and quite the excited look in his face.

X

"I can't believe a person as perfect as Tom Riddle would exist." Audrey Mulciber swoons shamelessly, earning her a look from the woman across her.

Audrey rolls her eyes dramatically. "Oh _come on,_ Victoria. We _know_ you like him too. You're just acting like a child."

Victoria raises a brow. "Apparently, you're the one babbling here. Doesn't that make _you_ the child?"

Audrey smooths out some flyaway hairs in her pixie crop. It was truly high maintenance to look so refined and prim. Satisfied how her locks are now smoothed out, her eyes dart back to the girl across her. One look was enough to confirm her deductions. "It appears someone is quite frustrated. Must it be because of what happened this afternoon?"

Victoria stiffens, barely so. However if you've been with a person long enough, you'd know their body language like second instincts. It wasn't about to go unnoticed to the three other women of the group. Surely enough, Agnes Black giggles from beside her. Victoria noted she liked to do that when someone was caught in a situation. What a pretentious dodo. Next, she'd open her mouth and say something even more pretentious.

Surely enough, Agnes was on the verge of commenting when a bored Audrey beat her to it.

"What an ostentatious girl you are, Agnes." She said, tsking. Victoria had to keep in her laughter. Agnes Black probably didn't know what 'ostentatious' was (frankly she didn't know too, but at least she wasn't the one on the receiving end of Audrey's insults.)

"Your la-di-da gimmicks are getting lame, Agnes. Did you really believe giggling like you're one step ahead of everyone makes you interesting? What pretentious POV bullshits have you been reading?"

By the end of Audrey's lengthy speech, Agnes had a tinge of pink on her cheeks.

"You should tell that to your pompous ass, Mulciber." An unfazed Ella Black quips from beside Victoria, all this time having observed the spectacle quietly.

"Hooray! Sisterly love comes to the rescue by complimenting my flattering bottom. Say, Sister Ella," Audrey extends an arm over the table to Ella's to clutch her hands in a mocking affectionate manner. "When did your incestuous relationship start?"

Ella sighs, returning said mocking affectionate hold and leans over. "What a potty mouth Audrey. I thought that fiasco with the Rosier boy taught you a lesson."

Audrey's eyes marginally narrow to slits, "What's this? Sister Ella out of intellect to retort and thus resorts to blackmail?"

"Your words were never uttered out of intellect in the first place." Ella replies in a heartbeat.

Audrey squeezes Ella's hands before letting it go to reach for some pumpkin juice.

Sipping daintily on her juice, she casts a cool glance at the girl beside her. "You should learn from your sister Agnes, she has no shame."

"But so do you."

"Of course, little one. I'm a Slytherin after all."

The conversation lulls to a silence; only the sound of utensils scratching plates and the evening chatter of the other students reverberates. Victoria had long ago tuned out of the whole insult session of her housemates and had already began eating ahead.

She looks up to see the trio silent, at long last their debate to an end and focus finally shifted to dinner. To what holds this bizarre relationship between the four, Victoria didn't know. Each knew they weren't friends, per se. Yet they still adamantly frequent the company of each other. It had been coincidence at first but now it was desideratum.

Ever since that Rosier boy died.

Victoria pushes the thoughts and memories away. Spilt milk should stay spilt.

"Anywayyyy," Audrey drawls breaking the silent barrier that had formed. "I remembered we were talking about lover girl Vicky here and Tom Riddle before all that fuss." Audrey continues, finally earning the group's attention back.

"Victoria never Vicky. Unless you don't have ears, Mulciber."

Audrey pays no heed to this remark, pushing through her goal. "So were you jealous?"

_There_, Audrey smirks triumphantly, seeing Victoria painstakingly try to cover up her annoyance. Victoria glares back.

"It was a misunderstanding," The two look at Agnes who was currently heaving more food to her plate. "I decided to ask Tom Riddle - amusingly enough, some girls probably thought of asking him too so I wasn't the only one, and he said it was nothing of the sort."

Audrey looks appalled, "How much of a lovesick fool could you possibly be? Asking Tom Riddle directly when it had been obviously, a misunderstanding."

"Of course I knew, you self righteous dunce." She spits back with equal fervor. Then with a leer she adds, "It was just a farce to get physically close to Riddle."

Audrey's eyes almost widened to platters. "Oh, you racy girl! I knew you had it in you!" Audrey exclaims, surprising the other girl with a hug. In that instantaneous second, it was like there was an unspoken agreement between the three of them: to disregard the awkward moment not too long ago. Audrey was relieved, only because their conversation had favorably taken another turn, sparing herself from the onslaught of questions that was sure to put her on edge at a point. After all, this was the core of their misguided relationship, seeing the other succumb through verbal abuse.

The other girls had engaged in a more diluted version of their everyday discourse, less rudeness but not all thoroughly throwing the insults out the door. Seeing this as her chance, Victoria silently sneaks a glance at Tom on the other end of the table.

He was at his usual spot, surrounded with the usual faces - Malfoy, Avery, Nott, Lestrange and a few other males from Slytherin. Victoria could never sit too close to them. For she didn't want to give him the impression she was like the other girls who sought out his attention audaciously. Although, it seems some females just don't share the same dignified sentiments as her.

Victoria watches as a blushing Ravenclaw student approached Riddle shyly from the side, three other girls at her back urging her on. She was momentarily repulsed by the sickening display.

"What an annoying bitch."

Victoria hastily whips her head at the voice, fearing she was caught red-handed ogling Riddle. Fortunately however, Audrey wasn't looking at her. Following her gaze, it seems the scene she had been watching earlier had been the cause for Audrey to curse out loudly. In fact, it had already gathered a few onlookers. Most from the Ravenclaw table, some random whistling boys and majority of the student body compromising the girls.

Ella laughs at the commotion. "She's taking the chance to publicly brand Tom Riddle as her own after being dubbed as the prettiest girl in school. It's no surprise that she's taunting the other girls in the vicinity. She's eliminating rivalry."

Audrey rolls her eyes and switches to eating grapes as if it were the most and only important thing at the moment. "Plebeian thinking makes me gag. The headmaster should really consider allowing wine for sensitive but mannered individuals such as ourselves."

"Oh well, it also can't be helped if the bottle would just go astray and pulverize _someone_." She adds, squishing the last grape.

Victoria calmly stabs a cinnamon roll and places it on her plate. "Of course it wouldn't be held against anyone. Magic after all, is autonomous, in a sense. It has a will of its own."

Ella watches jealousy unfurl like a large tsunami over the great hall. To think Tom Riddle could cause such large waves.. She knew he was exceedingly handsome, but this was borderline ridiculous. She had to give it to him.

_Now, what will you do Riddle?_

The Ravenclaw girl, which the author will not name for the sake of the reader's sanity in remembering the important characters in this story(since she'll also be eliminated soon, plot-wise), was fidgeting under the pressure. And probably from death stares all over the room.

"T-t-tom.." she stammers, realizing how stupid she must have sounded.

Tom Riddle flashes her a smile patiently urging her to continue.

Her head felt faint. She was ready to scream and bloody roll on the floor. She couldn't understand how the fuck one can be so devilishly irresistible.

"I-i'd like to give you this." She whips out a small dainty package she had been hiding behind her back.

Tom looks at it quizzically and she took this moment to elaborate further. "I overheard one time on this term that you really wanted it."

A few onlookers within earshot having heard such a vague description began to look at the small parcel with great curiosity. A few more from Tom Riddle's friends more befuddled than ever. When had Tom ever said he wanted something? Conspicuous glances were passed between another. Did Tom favor an individual among them to whom only he had known about this?

Tom Riddle looks at her then at the parcel, a torn expression forming. "..I can't possibly accept this, miss. I have done nothing for you and I barely even know you. I don't deserve such courtesy."

The effect was instantaneous: the crestfallen face of one Ravenclaw girl. Her dejected demeanor suddenly morphed into a frantic, pitying state. She was on the verge of crying.

"But not accepting such courtesy would be considered more impolite of me. Thank you."

Tom Riddle was smiling at her apologetically. She was taken aback. Did Tom Riddle sensed her distress and took the initiative to save her from public humiliation? Her eyes began to itch again. Knowing the disastrous consequence if she were to have a fit on the stop, she carves crescents on her palm with the tip of her nails to keep tears at bay. This time she wasn't about to cry from frustration, rather, she was sure it was the opposite of it.

How can one not fall for Tom Riddle?

"You're welcome Tom." She smiles gratefully and before Tom could ask her name she had already bolted back to the Ravenclaw table.

As soon as the girl was out of sight, Tom was greeted with sly gazes from his mates. A few getting up to pat him on the back. The hall resumes to its normal state of affairs, however the chatter of students having increased with more vigor. More heads whipping to and fro in a frenzied manner as they try to make do of the situation that had happened.

X

"Don't hog all the girls to yourself, ey Tom?" A cheeky Silvius Malfoy remarks before slumping into bed and giving a long yawn. A few seconds later he was out cold.

Tom carefully tugs on the silver ribbon wrapped around the box and it falls easily to the bed in a heap of coils. Its surface gleams in a pearly sheen as he turned the box in his hand. Finally, he places his hand on the lid and opens it.

Nestled comfortably inside, green stones glitter forming a miniature S - it was Salazar Slytherin's locket.

_**A/N:**_

**Hello, I haven't abandoned this story yet! Thank you for those who followed and clicked that favorite button. This is my first fanfic and English isn't also my native language so I apologise if there may be slight inconsistencies in grammar or the phrasing might be too awkward. I have big plans for this story and I might have rigged the timeline to my convenience (I'm talking about Tom not having to kill Hepzibah Smith for the locket. This isn't a spoiler right?)**

**I'd also _really _appreciate some constructive criticism(yes i'm fishing for reviews..)****, since you can never be too sure of what you are writing.**** So please don't just lurk, okay..?**

**Have a good day!**


End file.
